One Thousand Kisses by Jody Wallace

him—and soon thereafter tried to kiss him.
    No, she’d not be offering Embor a proposition card.
    Ani rolled in the tangled sheets until her cheek hit a cool spot on the opposite pillow. There was no place at Court for a half-twin with violent panic attacks and a yen for the Primary. What was she going to do? Ani pondered her options until a bar of orange sunrise splashed her face, waking her from the sleep she thought she’d never find.
    The light was so concentrated it pierced her eyelids. She flopped away from it, or tried to. Something large weighed down the coverlet, pinning her to the bed.
    Ani yanked at the covers. Her sister hadn’t sheet-wedged her in decades, but the sensation of being stuck by tightly wrapped blankets was a familiar one.
    “Talista, not funny.”
    A hoarse rumble answered her right before a multitude of needles pierced her thigh.
    Ani screeched and kicked. The weight disappeared. A distinct thump sounded on the floor to her right.
    Adrenaline blasted her system as her eyesight adjusted to the half-dark. She scrambled off the bed, groping for the alarm globe on the side table.
    “Who’s there?”
    She could see no one in her bedchamber, and she didn’t sense Tali through their sibling bond.
    Cautiously she crept around the footboard, gripping her alarm globe. The fist-sized charms could wake one person or a castle depending on how one used them.
    When she reached the corner, a black cat waited in the center of her damp rug with its tail tucked over its paws.
    She looked at the cat. The cat looked at her. Its yellow eyes gleamed. Then it hiked its back leg into the air and began to wash itself.
    Oh. Well. Himself.
    “Hello, Fey.” Anisette glanced at her door and windows. Undisturbed, keyed to locks she controlled. She chose who could enter. The only other way in was via transportation.
    “What are you doing here, Master Fey?”
    The cat, in the way of cats, didn’t acknowledge her. He started on his tail.
    Some Fey cats communicated with fairies. Some didn’t. They appeared and disappeared all over the Realm, cities to deserts. They also traveled to humanspace, possibly through things Tali called gnome holes and possibly by means of their own devising.
    Fairies were the dominant primates on the Realm continent, the only civilized land in their world. Fairies outnumbered leprechauns, annishags, yeti, medusas and other sentient species, with the sentience of gnomes an item of some debate.
    Cats were not primates.
    “I hope it didn’t hurt when I kicked you out of bed,” she told the cat. “I must have heard you meowing last night. I thought I had a nightmare.” What a relief to know she wasn’t stricken with night terrors on top of cowardice, panic attacks and extremely naughty fantasies about the Primary of the Realm.
    The cat extended his front paws, lengthening his body until he looked like a weasel. He was glossy black with tuxedo markings—white chin, chest, belly and paws. He was neither small nor large, longhaired nor short, striking nor drab.
    When he finished his stretch, he ambled to her bathing room, his tail curved into half a heart. She followed. He batted the surface of her bathing pool before helping himself to a drink.
    “I could fetch you some milk,” she offered. “Or an egg. Or both.”
    The cat continued to drink—lap, lap, lap. Pause. Lap, lap, lap. Pause.
    She felt uncomfortable taking care of her needs with him in the room so she waited until he left. Whenever cats appeared in a dwelling, the inhabitants were considered lucky, blessed by the spirits. It was tradition to pamper cats if given the opportunity. Ani enjoyed their company, even when the creatures had nothing to say.
    What did it mean that a cat was in her chamber? Was she about to come into some luck? She could use it.
    He was napping on her pillow when she exited the bathroom, his black fur a contrast to the pale pink sheets. Puzzled by the cat and anxious about her visit to the healers—and